


Whatever Souls Are Made Of

by philaetos



Series: Studies [6]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Jealousy, Lamb is still Baz’s vampire mentor, M/M, Marriage Proposal, just Simon and Baz being in love, vampire stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29887641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philaetos/pseuds/philaetos
Summary: “Soulmates are bullshit, but if they were not, I know he’d be mine”————————————A few months into their relationship, Baz is forced to talk to Simon about an aspect of it he would have liked to keep a secret a little longer ; the fact that the vampire in him has chosen Simon as his mate... and the things it implies.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Studies [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010952
Comments: 13
Kudos: 59





	Whatever Souls Are Made Of

**Baz**

So far, dating Simon Snow has been bliss. 

There’s something about it that is similar to when we were 18 and dating for the first time, but it’s also completely different.

I feel more free, relaxed, and at peace than I ever did back then. 

I can say it, this time, Simon is good for me. And I like to think that I’m good for him too.

We match, but not just because we’re both complete trainwrecks anymore. We just do. Because we were meant to.

 _I_ have noticed of course. If I hadn’t figured it out before we were even together, there’s no doubt I would have _after_ we got together, when I grew more possessive than I was in the past, even though I was much more confident in the fact that Simon wanted me and was going to stay with me than I ever was before. 

Simon hasn’t noticed, though, of course, and I haven’t mentioned it to him yet, for various reasons that don’t even make sense to me.

But I can’t hide this from him forever, it would be unfair, and besides, I’m sure things could get… interesting if Snow knew that my vampire instincts have claimed him as mine, much in the same way that the Crucible cast us together, almost 10 years ago. In a way that can’t be changed, an irrevocable bond holding the two of us together whether or not we want it.

And now we do, contrary to when we were made roommates.

So… I guess I should tell him. 

Someday.

Not now.

**…**

**Simon**

Baz is mean and cruel and he never truly loved me and he relishes my pain.

Lamb just came back from the US after _months_ -wonderful months of shagging Baz whenever I could with no other worry in the world than running out of lube- and Baz decided to invite him to come over.

To _our_ place.

Well.

Technically it’s _Baz’s_ place. I haven’t officially moved in. Officially being the keyword here.

But _still_ , we live here together, and Lamb is coming soon and I hate it.

I’m not jealous anymore. Not really. I know that Baz loves me and that he won’t choose Lamb over me. That doesn’t mean I fancy having the bloke too close to _my_ boyfriend.

I’m also apprehensive about the fact that he may comment on our relationship. _I_ kept commenting on his and Baz’s relationship, after all, it would only be fair for him to do the same.

I might punch him if he does, though.

Arms wrap around my neck, and Baz presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“Stop thinking about ways to murder my friend,” he says, clearly amused by the whole thing, his voice muffled by my curls.

“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m thinking that I might punch him.”

He lets out a breathy laugh. Then he kisses my head again. Then his hand snakes underneath my shirt, cold fingers brushing my hot skin.

I’m always hot when I’m home. Baz says he doesn’t know how to lower the heating. That’s bullshit, of course, I’m sure he does know, and anyhow, he could always cast a spell. I think he likes making the temperature a little higher than I’d like it to be so that my skin feels warmer under his touch. 

Since I’d do anything to get Baz’s hands on me, I never tried to lower the heating.

He teases one of my nipples as he kisses his way down to my ear. 

“Be nice with Lamb and I’ll let you do whatever you want to me once he’ll be gone.”

I sigh at that. What a pleasant thought…

There are _lots_ of things I want to do to Baz, things that our weeks and weeks of intense fucking haven’t covered yet.

“Blackmailing me with sex, really? That’s low, Basil.” I answer, because there’s no fun if there’s no banter.

He hums appreciatively, the sound vibrating in my ear. 

He likes it a lot when I call him Basil. I’d never make a habit of it because he’s Baz and it would sound too weird to call him anything else all the time, and it’s such an easy way to make him melt, I couldn’t ruin that for myself.

“It works though, doesn’t it?”

He trails his lips lower, to my neck, and lets his fangs drop. Fuck he should have _never_ learned to control them. He uses that ability against me and that’s just so unfair. The bastard knows how much I like when he bites me, which he has been insanely more inclined to do since we got back together. I don’t know what made him lose his fear of biting me, but I’m certainly not mad about it.

“Of course it does. You’re too hot to resist,” I answer, hoping that will flatter him into biting me.

It doesn’t. Now that he’s gotten what he wanted, he retreats, giving me a smug smile.

He’s lucky I love him so much. 

**…**

**Baz**

Snow is still sulking a little when Lamb arrives, both because I left him frustrated _and_ because Lamb is here, but he at least makes an effort not to show his displeasure too much as Lamb walks into our living room.

It’s so good to see him.

He was supposed to be gone two weeks at most, and he ended up staying in Vegas for months. And just because I’m with Simon now doesn't mean that I didn’t miss him. 

“Hi,” I say, giving him a smile. Months ago, I’d have given him a hug. If it was Niall, I’d have given him a hug. But I don’t want to upset Snow unnecessarily. “I’m happy to see you.”

“Me too,” he answers as he offers me his hand to shake.

I do, and then we join Simon. 

He stands up to shake Lamb’s hand -I did teach him some manners. Lamb gives him a warm smile that has something… seductive in it. And he holds Simon’s hand a bit longer than he should, looking at him with this appreciative look in his eyes I saw many times laid on _me._

I clear my throat very dramatically as I sit on the couch next to Simon, my hand going on his thigh on its own accord. It’s possessive, and rather unlike me. I touch Simon Snow any time I have the occasion to, of course, but I’m not the jealous one, though I _have_ been more possessive since we got back together. Once, I saw him hugging Olivia, much too close, for much too long, and it made something dark and burning grow in my stomach. How could she dare touch _my_ Simon like that.

I hear Lamb laugh, which makes my attention go back to him.

“What?” I snap.

He laughs harder.

Snow looks just as confused as I do, thankfully. Maybe Lamb is going mad. The sun of California after years and years of rainy London must have done something to his head. 

“No need to bare your fangs at me, Baz, I know he’s yours,” Lamb says, amused. 

“Then _don’t_ look at him like that,” I answer, the harshness of my voice and words surprising me.

I’ve never talked to Lamb like that. We never fought, I never had to raise my voice or sound aggressive with him. 

“Baz, what the fuck?” Simon says, as surprised as I am, turning his head to look at me.

Lamb walks to one of the armchairs, sitting on it with his legs crossed, before he says, “It’s normal. This aggressiveness, I mean.” He bends his elbow on his knee, resting his chin on his hand. “Tell me Baz, you have noticed that you were more possessive with Simon than you used to be, haven’t you?”

I’m not looking at Snow anymore, but I’m pretty sure the moron has a smile on his face when he hears me answer, “Well, yes,” with a bit of embarrassment.

I’ve reproached Simon for his jealousy so many times, I feel bad being jealous myself now, but I simply _can’t_ help it.

“You have also been marking him?” Lamb says, his gaze on Simon’s neck.

He has two hickeys and a bite mark there.

I feel my blood rush to my cheeks. I put them there because he’s _mine_ and I don’t like that Lamb is talking about them. It’s not his business if I want to leave marks on Simon.

“Yes.”

“And you obviously didn’t like it when I looked at him in a way you deemed inappropriate.”

“Obviously,” I answer between gritted teeth.

The smile that grows on his face can’t be anything good. 

He stands back up, heading towards us, towards _Simon._ He stops in front of him, and slowly lowers his head until his lips are close to Simon’s neck.

He whispers something to Simon that I can’t hear…

**…**

**Simon**

“Trust me,” Lamb says, so low that I might have dreamt it, his breathing on my neck.

It makes me shiver but not in a good way. There’s only one vampire I trust this close to my throat and it’s not him. I gulp audibly, and glance at Baz.

**…**

**Baz**

… But what I _can_ hear is the drop of his fangs, at the same time as Simon swallows with difficulty.

_Mine._

I can hear my blood pulse in my temple, or maybe it’s the pulse of Simon’s blood, as I grab Lamb’s hand, using all of my strength to pull him away from Simon. 

He falls back on the coffee table, Simon’s mug shattering as it falls on the floor, and I practically jump over Lamb, holding him steadily in place with a forearm across his shoulders, almost pressing on his neck. 

“ _Don’t_ touch him,” I say, my voice shaking with anger, a droplet of blood being projected on his shirt. 

My fangs cut my lips when they popped out unexpectedly.

And Lamb is just _smiling._ It infuriates me.

**…**

**Simon**

I have to admit, the way Baz threw himself on Lamb and the way he’s pinning him to the coffee table just because he pretended he was going to bite me is really fucking hot. 

**…**

**Baz**

“That, Baz,” Lamb says, much too calmly for someone in his position. “is proof that you have accepted Simon as your mate. Your instinct is telling you that he’s yours, only yours, and that you have to protect him so that someone else isn’t going to steal him from you, right? It’s normal. You can calm down now, I wasn’t going to bite him. I have no intention of taking him away from you.”

His voice is almost soothing now, languid, similar to how it sounded when he used his thrall, though he’s not using it now. I’d feel my entire body relax if he was, and my mind would become hazy like after a few drinks or waking up. He’s whispering, so I don’t think Simon can hear him. 

I take a deep breath and move back, sitting down again. Simon’s hand takes mine immediately, and he brings it to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.

“I love you,” Simon whispers as Lamb stands back up.

He fixes his clothes, and goes back to the armchair as if nothing happened.

“Did you have to do that to prove your point?” I ask, still with some irritation in my voice.

“It’s funnier,” Lamb answers, a smirk spreading on his lips.

“What point?” 

Simon is looking at me, eyebrows furrowed. 

Of course, he isn’t understanding any of this. I’ve never been jealous like this. 

I squeeze his hand. 

“I’ll explain later, my love.”

I didn’t want to tell him about him being my mate, but I suppose that after this whole show, I have to. If my possessiveness is getting _this_ out of hand, I have to explain to him why.

And I have to ask Lamb some questions, I think as I look back at him and his amused smile. 

**…**

**Lamb**

It’s endearing, the way Baz acts with Simon. 

The ways he expresses his possessiveness, his body instinctively showing that Simon is his, because I’m here and the vampire in him sees me as a threat. 

His hand on Simon’s thigh, not just resting on it, but holding it, his fingers digging in the fabric of Simon’s jeans. 

Then his arm around Simon’s shoulders, when he changes positions, his fingers resting on a bite mark that he probably left on Simon’s skin recently.

His tongue licking along his teeth insistently, the way he used to do when he couldn’t control his fangs well and felt them about to drop, when I’ve been looking Simon’s way for too long.

It’s subtle, most likely even involuntary, and that’s what really makes it fun. It had been so long since I’d seen mates that hadn’t been bonded yet, all those I know have been together for decades, centuries, they know that they belong to each other as certainly as they know that the sky is blue and fire is hot. It’s not something they doubt anymore, and the other isn’t something they have to claim anymore. 

Baz and Simon… they’re far from there. They’re still so young, and so is their relationship.

But their love is true, and their bond real, though they haven’t completed it yet. 

So palpable you can feel it in the air.

**…**

“Can I have a word with you, later?”

Baz’s question doesn’t surprise me. It’s obvious that his reaction to my pretending to want to bite Simon has shaken him. 

I nod. “Of course. Do you want Simon to be here while we talk?” I ask, glancing at the kitchen.

“No. He has to leave in…” He looks at his watch. “Twenty minutes. I asked you now so that you wouldn’t leave at the same time as him.”

**…**

**Baz**

And so half an hour later, I’m still sitting in my living room, but on the part of the couch that is the closest to Lamb, so close that I can smell the alcohol in his hand as if the glass was in mine.

Simon wasn’t really in favor of keeping alcohol at the flat, knowing that I have a history of getting drunk out of my mind and that having all those bottles just hanging there is tempting fate, but I insisted. 

Because it’s tempting fate, and life wouldn’t be as entertaining if I didn’t make it hard for myself, but also so that I'm able to pour people a drink if they want one. Fi would laugh in my face if the only drink I could offer her was soda. 

“So,” Lamb says, flicking his wrist to make the amber liquid swirl inside of his glass. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Sorry for my… earlier reaction. I wasn’t myself,” I answer, wincing uncomfortably. 

I can’t believe I acted the way I did, especially with _Lamb_. Our past relationship may be well and truly over, I still have a lot of respect for him, and throwing myself at him like that… it’s not exactly respectful. 

Though pretending he was going to bite _my_ boyfriend wasn’t either. I feel a wave of anger wash over me as I think about that, so I try to chase that thought, successfully for once, but I think it’s only because Lamb started speaking, giving me something else to focus my thoughts on. 

“You were yourself, actually. But you followed your instinct instead of your brain or heart as you usually would. It’s a normal reaction, I purposely acted the way I did to get this reaction out of you. It was better if it was me than a random vampire you would accidentally walk by on the streets who would make you feel threatened without meaning too. 

“But why? Why did I feel threatened, as you say? I _know_ that you don’t want to take Simon away from me.”

Lamb is probably the _last_ person who would try to steal Simon. If anything, he would try to steal _me_ from Simon.

“As I’ve told you, it’s instinct. You see another vampire in a compromising position with your mate, it makes the vampire in you see red, even if you know that there’s not a real risk you might lose Simon. However, now that you _know_ that reacting like that is something that you can do, it becomes something that you can avoid doing. It’s just like what I taught you with your fangs. Once you understand it, you can learn to control it. Though the best way to rid yourself of that deeply rooted possessiveness is to complete your bond with Simon. Even if you exert excellent self-control, around other people and especially vampires whom you see as a threat, you will continue seeing them as a threat as long as Simon and you will only be mates in names,” he says, his voice serious, but still comforting.

And fuck do I need comfort to hear this.

 _This_ is why I didn’t tell Snow we were mates. Unfortunately, he has read my books, and his memory is better than it seems, especially when it comes to the things written in my book -honestly I’m not sure if his fascination for vampires is only caused by the fact that he’s dating one, or if he is simply _very_ interested in them. He must know how the bond for mates is _truly_ formed, and I know him well enough to have this feeling that he will be willing to do what it takes to complete the bond.

But I don’t think _I’m_ willing.

“I won’t kill Simon,” I tell Lamb.

There’s less confidence in my voice as there was the last time we talked about this, months ago.

Because now… Even if the thought of ending his life disgusts me… The thought of having him with me forever is more and more alluring.

Every morning that I wake up next to him, I long for eternity for the both of us a bit more. 

Lamb sighs, sinking further in the armchair.

“You’ll hurt you and him both if you never turn him, you do know that, right? Vampires aren’t meant to be with mortals. Not for long. I’m going to tell you a story.”

I don’t like Lamb’s stories. He has seen so much, in his long existence, and like with life in general, most of it is unhappy, painful.

“There was this boy I met a long time ago. He had been bitten when he was only eighteen, and he hated being a vampire more than anything. Even after ten years, he hadn’t learned to live with it. So when he found the girl that he knew was his mate, he refused to turn her, because he did not wish his life to become her life. He didn’t want to make her a monster,” Lamb says, looking at me directly in the eyes, making the words even more impactful. How many times have _I_ called myself a monster for my vampirism? How many times have _I_ thought that I didn’t want to make my glorious, innocent, pure Simon a monster? “The girl didn’t know about mates. She barely knew anything about vampires, apart from the fact that her boyfriend was one. They got engaged. They got married. They were happy, until they weren’t. The girl grew older and older, and he stayed young. Soon she had wrinkles and grey hair while he didn’t look a day older than eighteen. People looked at them weirdly on the streets. Some people referred to him as her son, before she corrected them and said he was her husband. He started to be less attracted to her, physically, as she aged, and she started to be weirded out by the fact that she was with someone who looked like they were barely an adult. Eventually, she decided that she couldn’t bear growing old by the side of someone who would never have a single wrinkle, and they went separate ways. They didn’t get a divorce, it wasn’t a thing at the time, but she found someone else, someone that would grow old like her, and he was left alone and miserable, his mate lost forever.”

The words feel like a heavy weight being dropped on my shoulders.

“I’m not saying that this is for sure what will happen between Simon and you if you choose not to turn him but… it has happened. It could happen again.” Lamb leans in, resting his free hand on my shoulders. “This is a hard decision to make, but all the people I know who turned their mates couldn’t be happier with their decision.”

**…**

**Baz**

As I lie awake in our bed that night, I think about the events of the day. Lamb purposely making me jealous to get this violent, animal reaction out of me. The story he told me, about those mates who lost one another because the vampire refused to bite his mate. 

It would destroy me if I lost Simon after decades and decades by his side. I know I couldn’t bear to watch him happily married to someone else. Couldn’t bear to watch him grow old with another man or woman. 

But could I bear to watch him grow old at all?

I think so.

To a certain extent. 

And I know that my love for him would not falter whether he looked his current age or four times that, but love… it’s not everything in our relationship. Sex is a big part of it too, and sex would surely become an issue if I never turned Simon and he grew old.

I may be a fool blinded by love, I’m not completely delusional. I might want to fuck someone who looks 30, 40, maybe even 50 if he ages well, but after that? And will Simon still want to fuck someone who doesn’t look a day over 20 when he’ll be old enough to have children that age?

Children.

We’ve talked about this before, because I know that if it was _possible_ I would want children with him, I even changed my opinion on having non-magickal children because of how much I want a family with Simon Snow, but the option we envisioned… it wasn’t adopting… Since he can make children, we had talked about finding a surrogate, so that our child would still partly be biologically ours -biologically _Simon’s_ . That won’t be possible if I turn him soon, and we’re not going to have children now. Not that I don’t want to. Honestly, I would be perfectly happy to become a father within a year, but Simon isn’t ready, he wants us to really have our lives together before we have children, and he also wants us to _live._ Our teenage years were stolen by the war, then the downfall of our relationship made us both too messed up to really enjoy our youth. He wants to be able to do that now that we’re back together and that he isn’t threatened by any psycho father or evil magic twin anymore.

If I turn Simon, we lose all chances to have biological children. We lose all chances to have children _at all._

How do you raise a teenager when you look barely older than 20? Living while looking young forever is easy for a couple of young men, London is a big city, no one pays attention to anyone, we would just have to change jobs, maybe flats too, every few years, or we could even move cities, but a child needs much more stability than that in their life. 

Besides… How do you explain to a kid that they are going to grow old and die while their parents are immortal? _How_ do you even begin to explain to a kid that their parents are immortal?

It would all be too complicated.

It would be _impossible._

This beautiful dream of being a father by Simon Snow’s side, this dream I’ve only recently allowed myself to dwell on, will have to be given up on, if we complete our mating bond. 

It breaks my heart to think about it, and I can’t begin to imagine how it would feel for Simon. He adores children. Whenever we’re at the Manor and he looks after my siblings, he radiates a joy so bright it could blind me.

A hand slides under my shirt, rubbing my stomach, and after I blink a few times, I meet familiar blue eyes. 

“Hey, gorgeous,” Simon says with a smile as he holds himself up on all fours next to me. His hair is still damp from his shower, some droplets of water slithering down his body. He didn’t bother putting clothes on.

It would make a lustful smile grow on my lips if my mind wasn’t so troubled. 

Simon seems to catch up on that, because he frowns before he leans down to kiss the corner of my lips. 

“Is there something wrong? Because you promised you’d let me do whatever I wanted with you if I was nice to Lamb, Pitch,” he says jokingly. “I haven’t forgotten…” 

I roll my eyes. “Of course you haven’t forgotten, you’re horny every second of every day.”

“That’s not true,” he says with a wicked grin as his hand brushes the waistband of my jeans. 

“It is,” I answer, kissing his cheek. “But if we’re being serious for a moment… Yes, there’s something wrong. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait tomorrow to bend me over every flat surface in this apartment.”

“First of all, that wasn’t my plan. Second of all…” he shifts until he’s lying on his side next to me, pulling the sheet up to his hips because he’s very much _naked_ and some conversations shouldn’t be had in the nude. “Tell me. What’s on your mind?”

I take a deep breath, that comes out as a long, drawn out sigh. Aleister Crowley, this is difficult. But I know that my jealousy is getting worse and worse and that we can’t go on like this forever. As much as I hate to think about it… the bond has to be completed, or I’m going to fucking lock Simon inside the flat and never let him go outside in a matter of months.

Obviously, only one of those solutions is conceivable.

“You’ve read my book, haven’t you?”

It might be easier if we start with what he knows, and then I fill in the blanks with the information he doesn’t know or doesn’t remember.

“Yeah.” 

I know he has. Multiple times. The boy is obsessed with vampires.

“What do you remember about mates?”

His frown intensifies. “Baz what do you…”

“Hush,” I say, brushing my index finger against his lips. It makes him swallow showily. “Answer the question, love. What do you remember about mates?”

He scrubs the back of his neck.

“Well, I remember reading that vampires meet their mate in what would be their lifetime if they were, you know, mortal, and that the mate can be of any species, but that for them to be truly mated, the mate has to be a vampire as well… Oh,” he says, his eyes going wide as it strikes him.

His eyes seek mine. “I’m your mate, aren’t I?” 

I nod.

I _really_ didn’t want to be doing this anytime soon, Merlin. I always controlled my vampire instincts quite well, I wish I could say the same about the vampire possessiveness. lt would have saved me a lot of trouble if the vampire in me could have accepted Simon as our mate without this shit show of nonsensical jealousy.

“So… I have to become a vampire.”

There’s some excitement in his voice as he says it.

Aleister Crowley, he really isn’t helping. Can’t he see that becoming a vampire _isn’t_ a good thing? That it’s not something he should look forward to or desire?

“That’s what the bond wants,” I sigh, making it clear that it’s not in any way what _I_ want.

“You don’t look happy about it,” Simon says, changing positions _again_ to rest his head on my chest. He’s probably going to move soon because the button of my shirt is digging into his chin uncomfortable, or something similar. “Don’t you think it would be amazing? To have forever together?”

He looks up at me with his eyes gleaming. He’s absolutely, devastatingly beautiful.

And mine.

He’s mine.

And he could be even _more_ mine…

I sigh again as my fingers get lost in his lovely curls. 

“That part is extremely appealing, but Simon, there’s so much more at stake. I’m _dead,_ Simon. You’ll be too, if I turn you. I’ll _kill_ you.”

He’s going to argue that it’s technically _not_ killing, I can practically hear him before he even opens his mouth. 

“I mean, is it really killing me if I consent to it and I’m going to come back to life afterwards?”

I knew it.

“It _is_ still killing you, Snow,” I say and he cringes. He’s never liked me calling him by his last name, but the more time passes, the more he hates it, because now I only ever call him Si, Simon, or pet names, except when I’m cross with him, or in bed to tease him. “What if I mess up and I don’t succeed in turning you? You could die. This is _serious_.”

He just rolls his eyes.

I’m going to _actually_ kill him.

“Baz, I trust you,” he says, with such certainty in his voice it might make me tear up. 

_Trust_. That was hard to obtain. Much harder than his love. But it was hard to give too…

“It’s not a question of trust. I know that you trust me, you’re a fool, but I don’t trust _myself_.”

He cranes his neck forward to kiss a sliver of skin, visible thanks to my partly unbuttoned shirt, before bringing his determined eyes on me once again.

I have half a mind to end this conversation and ask him to continue to use his lips to kiss me and not to talk, so that I don’t have to hear him convince me to end his life.

“Lamb has told you how vampires turned mortals, you know what you have to do, and if it makes you so anxious you could always ask him again before you do it. I’ve read your book, it seems like a simple enough process, there’s no way you could mess it up. You won’t kill me. Hell, you could even have Lamb supervise the whole thing if it makes you more comfortable.”

My eyebrows shoot up.

“Do you really want to become a vampire _that_ badly?”

Biting is so intimate.

It probably isn’t for most vampires since they all do it in public, but the only people I’ve ever used my fangs on are Simon and Lamb and it always happened behind closed doors. I’d honestly rather be caught giving head than be caught biting Simon, and I do not have my beloved boyfriend’s exhibitionist tendencies. 

“What I want, Basil,” he answers, shifting on top of me -I know he’d change positions soon-, still tangled in the bedsheets. “is to spend all of eternity with the love of my life. That’s you by the way. Becoming a vampire grants me that. No sacrifice I would have to make in order to be turned could be so big that it would make me wish to stay mortal. I love you, Baz. I want all the time I can have by your side. I… Honestly, when I think about growing old… it terrifies me. I don’t… Thinking of myself with grey hair and my face full of wrinkles while you still look the way you do today, it makes me sick to my stomach. I’ve had _nightmares_ about you replacing me with some pretty young thing, and nightmares where I see your love and desire to be with me diminish as I become older and older. I know that being immortal isn’t easy for you, but knowing that you’re immortal isn’t easy for me either. And honestly I…” He looks away, swallowing with difficulty. He’s staring at the mattress when he continues. “I’m afraid that part of the reason why you don’t want to turn me is because deep down you know that you only want me temporarily. I wouldn’t blame you, though. I’m not the kind of person anyone would want to be burdened with until the end of the world, after all.”

My arms close around him almost mechanically, crushing him against my chest. I push his head in the crook of my neck, holding his as close as I physically can without making us merge together. I _would_ make us merge together if it was possible.

“My Simon,” I whisper into his ear, trying not to let the turmoil of emotion overwhelming me show through my voice. “My beautiful nightmare. I want you with me when the sun turns off and the stars collapse. I want you with me until there’s nothing in the universe but us. I want you until the end of the world, and beyond that. There isn’t a plane of existence where I don’t love you, not an alternative reality where I’m not utterly, desperately yours, Simon Snow. There’s this philosopher whose idea was that we cannot be sure of anything except of our own existence. We can question the veracity of the existence of everything in the world, except our own, because we can think. _Cogito ergo sum_ , I think therefore I am, you may have heard that. Well, I don’t agree with him, because I’m completely, irrevocably sure of two things. I exist, and I love you. And sometimes, I’m not even that sure that I exist, but I’m _always_ certain that I love you.” 

I can feel hot, wet tears falling on my neck. I don’t mind. I know they’re not the bad kind of tears. So I simply stroke Simon’s back up and down while threading my fingers through his hair, occasionally kissing whatever part of his head I can reach and whispering softly _‘I love you’_ s into his curls. 

He knows, but he needs to be reminded sometimes. Some days are harder than others, some things throw him back to when he was a teenager and to this constant fear he felt, the fear of being abandoned, by Penelope, by Wellbelove, by the Mage. 

It’s not a problem. I’d gladly spend the rest of my life telling him I love him every single day. Comforting him, assuring him that I’m here, and that I always will be. That if even the whole world turns against him, I’ll be by his side, because there’s nowhere else I would rather be. 

Once I hear that his heartbeat has gone back to normal, I continue speaking, “Don’t ever doubt my love for you, Simon. I _will_ love you forever. That’s not why I’m reluctant to turn you. The thing is… I’m scared. Scared of the things that could go wrong when I turn you, and of the consequences you becoming a vampire may have for us, and for you. Immortality… it comes with a price. The quasi certainty that you will see all your loved ones die, except if you somehow manage to get yourself killed despite your immortality. Well, all your loved ones except for me. We won’t be able to have children if we’re both immortal, it would be far too complicated and would hurt both us and the child far too much. You will have to drink blood, to hunt, to feed yourself when we won’t be able to get blood any other way. You will lose your mortal life, and your soul. You will feel disconnected from the mortal world, which might not seem like a problem to you now but it’s not something you can truly comprehend until you feel it for yourself, and believe me, it’s not a pleasant feeling, to always have the impression that you’re watching the world go on from afar, as if you were stuck behind a glass screen separating you from the rest of the people. It’s… Being turned is not a decision that should be taken hastily, my love,” I say, as I tug in his hair lightly to make him look at me. His eyes are still shiny and red from his tears. “We have to _really_ talk it through, and you have to be completely sure. Do you understand?”

He nods, before he presses a chaste kiss on my lips. “Yes.”

**…**

**Simon**

And so we talk it through.

For days on end, it’s all we do. We reread every note Baz has ever written on mates and on turning mortals. We often call Lamb to double-check everything with him. Baz goes to his place to _triple_ check everything. 

After weeks, we have finally figured everything out -except for the date when we do it, but I have a feeling it won’t be soon…-, thus easing Baz’s paranoia. 

Well, I _thought_ we had everything figured out, but of course, that was without taking the fact that my boyfriend is an absolute sap into account…

He’s lying half on top of me, his head resting on my shoulder close to where he bit me a few minutes ago, surveying my bite mark -bite mark **s** , really, we’ve been doing this often- with the greatest attention. I know he loves seeing them. For the vampire in him, they are the ultimate evidence that I’m his. 

“Simon?” he says. 

When he looks up at me, his pupils aren’t dilated like they were when he drank my blood. He’s come back down.

“Yes, treasure?” 

Blood rushes to his cheeks, making me smile.

I’ve been experimenting with new pet names, now that he doesn’t glare at me when I call him ridiculous things anymore. I love seeing his reaction when I call him one he likes.

Baby is great, but it’s practically his name at this point, so it doesn’t make him flustered anymore, which is absolutely no fun.

He clears his throat. “I was thinking… before we go through the process of making you my mate for good, there’s another ritual I would like us to engage in.”

I frown.

Why is he using big words like that with me, he knows I’m useless after sex.

“Another ritual? What do you mean?”

He smiles, amused.

“A marriage ritual, my love. I want you to be my husband.”

… What?

I push myself up into a sitting position, forcing him to sit up too. He has a huge grin across his face. He’s breathtaking.

“Basilton did you just _propose_ to me?” I ask, my voice full of disbelief. “Because if you did, that was the lamest proposal in the history of proposals.”

He laughs, something clear and genuine, more melodious than any music he could play on his violin. 

“Well, when I proposed to you the first time, I did it very properly with a good dinner and candles and a ring and on my knee, and you said no, so I thought I’d try another method.”

I’m smiling too, so widely that the corners of my lips hurt, but I still roll my eyes at that.

“Will you ever let me live this down?”

He pretends to think about it, frowning exaggeratedly and holding his chin between his thumb and index finger, before giving me a very Baz Pitch smirk.

“Only if you say yes this time.”

Tears spring to my ears, as if my brain is only now fully realizing what’s happening.

Baz proposed to me. He faced his fear of being rejected _again_ , and asked me to marry him. 

He wants me to be _his husband._

I reach out with my arm to hold the back of his neck, making him tumble back on the bed with me. 

“Yes, Baz, of course I want to marry you,” I answer then, crashing his lips against mine as one first tear rolls down my cheek. 

**…**

**Baz**

_Yes._

This is a joy like nothing I’ve experienced in the past. My heart feels too big for my body, so full of love for this man it could rip my chest open. 

My head is spinning as our tongues meet in a sloppy kiss.

_He said yes._

I start crying too.

**…**

**Simon**

We’re such messes.

There are tears on both of our faces, and Baz is looking down at me with hearts in his eyes and a smile I never thought I’d see on the face of stone-cold Baz Pitch. 

I’m probably no better. 

I’m playing with the hair at the base of his neck absentmindedly in between pecks on the lips and so many _‘I love you’_ s that the words almost lose their meaning.

Almost.

No matter how many times we say it, _‘I love you’_ could never become words I hear spoken in his deep voice without being affected by them. 

“You’re going to marry me,” he eventually whispers against my lips, when he decides to stop sounding like the broken record of a love song. 

“I’m going to marry you,” I answer, my happiness showing through my silly but uncontrollable giggles. I kiss his lips again. “Simon Grimm-Pitch has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

One last tear escapes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it ^^


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